Page 44 of Bay of Plenty

What?My heart stopped. Around me, I could feel Kui, Declan, and Rangi stiffen.

Rangi jerked back. “First I’ve heard.”

Petey raked a hand over his face. “Ah, shit, mate, I’ve spoken out of turn. Please don’t say anything. The buyer in London says the shipment next Sunday is the last one. We’ve got all the paperwork. Yeah, it’s for real, mate.” That was eight days away.

He started to back away, clearly worried about getting in trouble at work.

The day after the campground auction, it was over. No more shipments. And no second chance for us. It didn’t make any sense. What made Snow decide to end his multi-million-dollar paydays?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kui called aswe drove home. “We didn’t get any more info out of Petey.”

I grunted. “Snow’s been keeping Rangi in the dark.”

Kui tsked with annoyance. “Snow would never muck my son around, even if it’s about time off. There’s only one explanation—Snow doesn’t know it’s the final shipment, which proves that Snow is not the head of this thing. It’s someone else, and they’re keepinghimin the dark.”

I hummed as if considering what she said. There was no point in arguing unless I had proof. Promising to keep each other updated, we said goodbye and rang off.

Declan white-knuckled the wheel, seeming unusually disturbed. “I need to find a contact at the port in The Mount to confirm that date. And I’ll send an alert to London.”

“Why would this be the final shipment?” I gripped the stone I kept in my pocket. My gut tightened. “God. Do you think he might suspect us?”

“That would be the worst-case scenario.” He forced out a breath. “I hope to hell it’s not. Maybe he has the money he needs for whatever he’s buying or investing in. Or maybe the chain is breaking down.”

We trudged into the house, joined Mum and Fred on thesofa, and video-called Dad. He wanted to hear all about our night, and he was sad to miss it. I said I hoped we could do it again once he had fully recovered. He looked pale, and I hoped it was end-of-day tiredness. Fred wandered out the back.

We hung up, and, still sitting on the sofa, I searched for some peace in the moonlight on the sea, a sleek, soothing silver.

BAM!

A blast exploded in the room.

The windowpane shattered into pieces. Shards of glass twisted toward us like pointed raindrops in a storm. My veins blistered in fear.

What was that thing hurtling through it? A bird? A rock?

“Get down.” Declan grabbed Mum and me both. He hauled us behind the sofa.

Mum and I huddled together, my heart pumping. Mum whimpered. “Is it a bomb? What happened?”

“I don’t know, Mum.” I heard my voice crack. My gut lurched with nausea.

“Stay here,” Declan rasped out.

From a crouching position, he leaped through the living room and was gone. I lay over Mum again, both of us gasping. Mum rocked under me, crying. “We’re going to be okay, Mum,” I said. “Declan will look after us. He’s a professional. He’s trained for this.”

Mum shuddered a breath. “A professional?” she asked, dazed.

Oh, shit. “No, um, I mean, he used to be in the army reserves.” I bobbed my head up quickly, and every part of me hurt. My arms and legs were stinging with cuts. Mum’s hair glinted. “Mum, don’t move. We have glass all through our hair and clothes.”

“I’m trying not to. What’s happening now? Is it safe to look?”

“No, better not.”

Each second felt like an age. Sirens screamed the arrival of police. Relief washed through me. Declan must have called them. Barking ripped through the air.

“Fred. Where’s Fred?” My heart stopped.

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